


After the War

by arepitas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, the epilogue never existed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:52:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8224445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arepitas/pseuds/arepitas
Summary: Of course, some rumors remained. Even after the War. That he was unstable, that he wasn't someone you'd like your kids around. That he wouldn't be able to shoulder the responsibilities. But McGonagall had trusted him and so, when he had shown up at her office – Harry Potter, no longer The Boy Who Lived – and asked for the DADA position, she had smiled and agreed.





	

Of course, some rumors remained. Even after the War. That he was unstable, that he wasn't someone you'd like your kids around. That he wouldn't be able to shoulder the responsibilities. But McGonagall had trusted him and so, when he had shown up at her office – Harry Potter, no longer The Boy Who Lived – and asked for the DADA position, she had smiled and agreed. 

Some years had passed. He sold Grimmauld's place – to the Ministry; heard they were planning to make a War Museum – and what better place to host it than a house formerly owned by Harry Potter himself, no less? Spend a year or two in an appartment in London, near Weasley's Wizard Weezes, so he and Ron could see each other regularly. Occasionally meeting Hermione, who now was attending a Muggle university -- studying Law, out of all things. "Wizard Society can learn a thing or two from the way Muggles handle things," she said impatiently, when asked. Still carrying a bag of books, staying up every night to study. Fully and completely determined as ever to Change the Way Things Were. It was Hermione's idea, too, for him to find a therapist. Ron hadn't thought much of it, but Harry had gone to see someone. A Muggle, but a witch's mother. Ideal for the job.  
Harry had taking up flying again, playing Quidditch with Ginny when she had time to spare. For a while he thought of taking it up professionally. But a carreer in sports meant travelling, and Harry cherished the little stability he had. Instead, he spend his time around those he loved. Regularly visited his godchild, Teddy. The Weasleys. Travelled to Hogwarts to see Hagrid and later, Neville. Harry had, somewhat – in a way, begun to begin to heal. Slowly, but still. The nightmares were fewer. He'd learned how to cope with the flashbacks. Actually managed, eventually, to look after himself. Keep up a regular sleep schedule. Buy groceries. Learned to cook, actually, and found he was not bad at it. At all.

The job – it had been Neville's idea.  
"Guess what, Harry?" he'd asked, grinning. "We still need someone to teach DADA this year."  
McGonagall had found the former teacher - an Ex-Auror - lacking in teaching skills. She was, of course, a strict headmistress. Monitoring teachers more closely than Dumbledore ever did, much to many parents' relief.  
"You should apply. Talk to McGonagall. She'll take you in a heartbeat."  
Harry wasn't sure at first. Teaching was not something he had ever really considered. Being an Auror had been his dream, yes -- but after the War ... after the War things were different. He didn't want to fight anymore. Didn't want to spend the rest of his life fighting. He'd done enough of that; had done enough.  
Neville seemed to sense Harry's doubts.  
"Remember the DA meetings?" he asked.  
Harry smiled. Of course. Of course he did.  
"We learned so much. All thanks to you, Harry." 

And so he wrote to McGonagall. She seemed glad to see him, though surprised at his request. She accepted, however. "I expect a lesson plan in three weeks, Potter," she had said sternly, jotting down recommended literature for him to consider. Of course she'd given him homework. 

A few months later, there he was. Making his way through the crowd King's Cross. Spotting wizard families here and there, and confused Muggle parents searching for the platform. Harry ignored those who stared and pointed, as he boarded the bright red train. It wasn't until he finally sat down – for the first time alone in a compartment – that he understood the giddiness he was feeling. 

He was finally on his way back home.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a tumblr post (http://batcii.tumblr.com/post/148725023478) about Harry being better off teaching than fighting dark wizards for the rest of his life. I'm planning to write a few more chapters, both on Harry in Hogwarts and on what everyone else is up to. Ships will be tagged accordingly.


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